Wednesday 11th September 2019
Belarusian: Серада 11 верасня 2019 года
01:05hrs: I was so amazed at how easily I got put off of the Brother-in-Law Pete damaged while he was flat-sitting, when I was in hospital, as he fitted new CCTC cameras, and searched for my valuables, (Which he found and took, I still haven’t got them back yet four-months later), £300, second-hand, near-dilapidated, gungy-beige coloured, c1968, sometimes working, uncomfortable, rickety, rinky-dinked, rattling, rusty, resurrected, reconditioned, recalcitrant, recidivating and rotting-away recliner, to have a wee-wee. No bother, this morning, just a BOBSL (Blasting-Out-But-Short-Lived) mode. The EGPWWB (Emergency-Grey-Plastic-Wee-Wee-Bucket), had but a few fluid-ounces in it.
Having risen and moved with such ease, was a pleasure. Off to the kitchen, when the brain-storming arrived. Worries, problems etcetera permeating my peace of mind. Today is the lousily timed afternoon Podiatrist appointment. So I intend to get on with the updating. I took the medications, made a brew, and got the computer booted-up. I opened Coreldraw to make the graphics for a couple of days, and the Porcelain Throne required a visit.
It turned out to be a session on the crossword book, with the occasional painful but unsuccessful heave and pushing… But I had to surrender and gave up. There was plenty that wanted to come, but I assume that Constipation Conrad was the reason for my failure to pass owt. I considered taking a tablet, or sachet of crystals to move things. But I decided to wait a bit.
I washed the hands and got the nearly cold by now mug of tea, and went and got the computer going. I put the appointment made last night when I was woken up, for the questionnaire, interview, telling-off, update or, whatever it is I am having or being given on Thursday, with Nichola.
The feet were checked, the nails were long! Hehe!
I eventually got the graphics done, and worked on the updating of the Tuesday post. I can’t believe how long it took me, but there was a fair number of photographs, though.
Much tap-tapping, rattling and banging coming from upstairs, that was making concentration hard. But whether it will be from Herbert or some workmen, it didn’t matter, whatever, it had to be done. I turned off the computer and got at least some black and recycling bags sorted. I can take them down when I go out to the Health Centre. Time to get the ablutions sorted after that.
Back in a bit, all being well, I hope… Hahaha!
Excellent session with the ablutions. Only two dropsies as I can recall. The first one being the plastic bottle of drain-unblocker, which fortunately didn’t split open. Phew! The other one, a razor.
I got things ready, and set out, down in the lift and walked along the link-passage, checking to see if the door mechanism on the exit and fire door had been mended, yet. Nope!
I got to the Wardens Holding & Interrogation Cell, handed some nibbles out, had a little natter, then out through the Windwood Court foyer onto Chestnut Walk. Where I took this rather pathetic picture from near the contractor’s storage sheds. Not very good, is it? Ah, well! Done me, bestest! Huh!
I got out of facing the sun and took this much betterer photo of Windwood Court. The shadow from the Chestnut tree looked rather good, and added something to the outcome, I thought. The pods will be forming soon, and then no doubt dropping, to give us something extra to struggle through with our disabled scooters, shopping bags on wheels and walkers. Hehe!
To take this shot of my beloved, Woodthorpe Court. That lies somewhere between the twilight zone and a wormhole slipping through a tear in the fabric of space & the universal continuum, illusion, delusion, & hallucination! But I like it! I foolishy bent down, put up the screen to see it. Getting back up again… Well! Hehe!
A touch Nottinghamian Street Art, near the entrance to the gravel hill up into Woodthorpe Grange Park. Getting myself up this route, taking my time of course, nice and steady, was not too hard at all. I thought!
At the top, I had to rest for a while. The CIDP was taking its toll on me. But I was soon back into life, and found myself under a tree, looking up at the Chestnuts forming. The wind was blowing a bit, but I managed to take a half-decent shot of them, zoomed-in.
I hobbled through the twitchel, and came out the other end, to take this picture of the fantastic sky.
It felt like I was in another country for some reason. The wind was warm, the sun not too hot, and I was out and about, leisurely limping 
to the Health Centre and the podiatrists.
As I strolled unsteadily along Elmswood Gardens, I spotted these flowers, with almost black leaves. They were obviously beyond their best, but they fascinated me. I wonder what they were?
I arrived at the Elmswood Health Centre. I walked around the corner to avoid the steps, around and up into the receptionist.
I began talking to the receptionist, with a word fluff! Hahaha! Oh, dearie me! “I’ve come to see the psychiatrist!” She smiled and gave me a ‘Poor old fool’, look. Then replied, “I hope you mean the podiatrist?” And broke into a smile! She had to explain what I’d said, as well. Oy Vey!
I went into the waiting room. A man and woman were there. To whom I offered a ‘Good afternoon! I only a scowling look back from both of them, in unison! Oh, heck!
They were soon called into the treatment room. I got out the crossword puzzle book out and had a go at it. Not too successfully. Half an hour or so later, the lady came and called my name, and in I went. We had a good natter while she did the tootsies for me. I have to go back in two weeks, to booke the next visit. I gave her a nibble, thanked her and went out, and made my way into Sherwood, to check out the Post Office shop for any my newly addicted to, Puff pastry fingers.
The weather was still perfect for hobbling.
To my delight, the shop owner had some fingers in stock. Well, only one packet, but I bought it to add to the four packs I bought from Tesco on Tuesday. They were the same price as at Tesco as well. I asked him if he would be having some more in stock next week? He took a photo of the fingers on his mobile phone and said he’d get some if available. I can’t ask for more than that from him. I also bought a pack of Twist Baqar Khani fingers. I’ve not the foggiest idea what that they are or might be, but they looked highly edible, to me.
I thanked him, and as I left the store, an ignorant, scumball of pavement Cyclist wet by, and all but hit two young lady vegetarians sat eating outside the costly cafe, bakery, and shop. The swine! One of the girls got out her mobile and called someone sharpish.
I crossed over the road and up to the bus stop. A lady tenant, Shirley, I think her name is was waiting. We had a good natter until the bus arrived. Back at the flats, we walked back to Woodthorpe Court, through Winchester and Winwood to or lifts, and up. Shirl dropped off on I think the 6th floor, we said our cheerios, and I got to my level. I called at Josie’s, but she was out.
I got in and prepped the Lamb Moussaka, put some Leicester grated cheese on top, and put it back in the fridge. I’ll add some tomatoes later, when its been in the oven for fifteen minutes and add some mini-wholemeal cobs, too.
I got the Computer on, with the intention of getting the updating done, then hopefully have time to get some TFZer Facebooking done. I’m miles behind with it.
But Mr Fries had other ideas… the Git!
It came back on, and I started the updating… or an hour or so, then…
It was already an hour beyond my usual head-down time, Humph!
Another session when it came back on, this time of its own accord. Another hour later…
So tired-out. I had to give up on the computing and got the meal started. I considered using the £4 Sicilian Red Bull’s Heart Tomato in the ready-made Lamb Moussaka. But decided against it, this might be best used sliced in a sarnie! Although, it might test the new tomato slicer’s strength? Will it fit in? Hahaha!
I got the handwashing done and hung to dry, while the fodder was cooking.
I got the meal served up. I shall not invest in one of these again; the flavour rating was a most generous 4/10. Most disappointing. It took me a long time to digest it, with the horrible sensation that it all wanted to come back up again after eating it. Well, not all of it. The mini wholemeal part-baked cobs were pleasant enough and flavoursome.
I think that with it being so rich in flavours, the Porcelain Throne evacuations, that have been so reluctant and constipationally restricted lately; will either be freed or clogged up even more! I’ll find out which on the next Throne visit. Oh dear!
Got the washing-up done, had an SSAOW (Short-Sharp-All-Over-With) wee-wee. By then, I was ultra-fatigued. Got down in the Brother-in-Law Pete damaged, £300, second-hand, near-dilapidated, gungy-beige coloured, c1968, sometimes working recliner… Zzz soon came!
The dropsies were plentiful, the toothbrush (twice), shaving foam can, soap, razors several times, shower head… and I even managed afterwards, to drop the flaming fearful sock-glide! However, it fell to the ground without coming into contact with any part of my body! Smugness-Mode-Adopted! 
The head was getting me more pain now! Just thought I’d mention it. 
The top room was not being used. Shame, it is lovely comfortable and snuggly warm in there, too. A delight to have for the new tenants, a giant crossword was partly done on one of the tables.
I came back down in the lift. No one about. 
Nor, in the elevator, or on the twelfth-floor lobby. When I went into the lightless hallway to the three flats that share that corner, I almost had to feel my way along to find the door. Haha! 
This is the Soulfood vegetarian chilli, with the added vinegar, brown tomatoes and black bean sauce, that was the evening nosh. The chunk of Polish Sourdough, and a mini-bottle of fresh orange juice. This scrumptious, delectable, highly palatable feast was all eaten up. Amidst the belching and passing of wind afterwards, I thought it deserved a favour rating of 9.3/10! 
This began the seemingly never-ending tormenting series of humiliations, Whoopsiedangleplops, Accifauxpas, and frustrations! Unexpectedly, the wee-wee was of the BOBSL (Blasting-Out-But-Short-Lived) style. Which involved me having an annoying struggle to get things cleaned up afterwards! I turned into a fervid panegyric, as I spent what felt like time-immemorial, cleansing myself, and the surrounding items. Silently (mostly), waffling, carping on and complaining to myself about my recent Whooopsiedangleploop infestation and suffering with so many reverses. The waking up feeling in better spirits didn’t last long! 
Well, well, well! I do feel a fool for writing all that doom-ladened stuff about the ablutions, now! 
and mayonnaise with the brined tuna. I had the pleasure of using the new tomato-slicer for Josie’s plate. Got the arrangement for the plate laid out, leaving space for the cheesy potatoes to go on last, so they will keep warmer longer.
I spilt some juice out of the slicer-tray on the floor. Bent down to wipe it up, and clouted my head on the cooker! A bad one this was. I think I hit somewhere near where I clonked my head when I fell off of the stepladder trying to get up to do the windows the other day, cause it stung something rotten! It has been aching ever since. Tsk! 
I took a few minutes to unwind, then got the potatoes out of the oven, and onto the plate. Got it all done, and delivered it to the gals door. Josie didn’t answer until I was going back in the flat, she’d been on the phone talking to family. At least she was alright, I handed her the nosh, explained about the mayonnaise and tomato slicer being used, but I don’t think she could hear me properly. But she gave me a smile, thanked me, and I returned to the bomb-site… I mean kitchen! I got it cleaned up eventually, and then, I decided I’d have a hobble into Sherwood, to try and get some decent tomatoes and flakey pastry fingers, I should be able to get the fingers from the Ozan shop.
Out, to Ozan’s in Sherwood, in search of flaky-pastry finger biscuits, tomatoes. 
As I set off along Chestnut Walk, it seemed that all the other tellurians apart from me had relinquished their occupancy. 
downhill, especially on the uneven ground, it needed a good bit of controlling. But I avoided any Accifaupaxs or tumbles. Smug-Mode-Engaged! 
Paid for them, thanked the man, and exited to begin the uphill-hobble back to the flats. No buses on a Sunday. 
They really were so beautiful.
I walked along Chestnut Way, then into the Winwood Court entrance, and along the linking passage without seeing a soul. I hate weekends! 
I had to fight off the heavy eyelids as I put the bits away and prepared the meal.
Back to the kitchen, took a picture of the wonderful sky. 
Mind you, the nut was throbbing away!
I got the trolley and myself all ready, forgetting to take the black bags I made up in the kitchen and left, to find the three-flats foyer in darkness. The new light put in by the same electricians who cut my power for nine-hours, when putting in the Fire-Alarm sprinkler system I’ve little confidence in them working!) Not the NCH men who gave me the floods and destroyed my clothing in the airing cupboard, that people are even less interested in than my Doctor is in missing my Warfarin blood tests. They probably don’t even know it’s happened. I can’t get through on the phone to them. Oh, I’m getting niggly again! 
I wobbled through the cut-through pas
The highlight of my mini-hobble home came as I got on the main road. 
really. As I was trying to get up, a bloke who’d stopped his came over and asked if I was alright. Another humanitarian gesture! I thanked him and said I was fine, thank you. 
blowing through the holes in the wall and floor, courtesy of the builders and repairmen… still, you can’t expect it sound just like inside your Woodthorpe Court flat, can you?
I got in the apartment. No wee-weeing, no Porcelain Throne requirements, no new ailments acquired. Apart from a little bruise on the head still there from my falling off the stepladder earlier, and an even smaller injury-come-graze, on the knee, from the mini-fall on the road. 
I got on with updating this blog, for hours, but the finger-ends were making it slow work. Eventually, the CIDP won, and I gave up working on the computer. 
I got the dressing gown on sharpish, and the door chime rang out. Guess who it was? It was the tomato slicer delivery from Amazon, that was due to arrive on Sunday. I thanked the lady and took the box into the kitchen and had a look at the slicer. 
I got the handwashing done and hung. 
Bulgaria Euro qualifying match. When I say stayed awake, I mean mostly. Half-time I drifted off.But came back to life when the match restarted.
It was of the CMOUSTSTBO (catching-me-out-unwilling-slow-to-start-then-blasting-out) mode! I cleaned up the back-splashed spray from the floor, sink, cupboard door, and then from myself. 
However, the slipper mystery developed somewhat. After another ferret-around for the missing one, I now have three odd slippers? Ah, the Mysteries of my beloved Woodthorpe Court, continue! 
As Sister Jane commanded, I mean suggested, I made my way to and through the slab square to try the Lakeland store for a slicer. 
I walked back through the unkempt city centre, where the workers were dismantling the amusements, ready for the next money-making scheme, a foods of the world theme thing I think. 
ad to battle falling asleep for most of the journey, but failed and did just before the bus arrived at the flats. Klutz! 
I walked back through the connecting-passageway. Not a soul in sight. 
I got the nosh sorted. Even as I got down to tuck into the fodder, the knees and back were in a painful condition. Poor old sausage! Haha! 
Back down again in the Brother-in-Law Pete damaged £300, second-hand, gungy-beige coloured, recidivating and rotting-away recliner, and put the goggle-box on to watch a Rumpole of the Bailey on Freeview channel 48.
00:25hrs: I woke, with some of my joints, bones, tendons, etc. not hurting. (There must have one somewhere on my overgrown hulk of body mass, not in agony, surely? Haha!) The moment I tried to move, Arthur Itis let me know, in no uncertain terms, of his reluctance to move without causing me more than flesh and blood can stand, excruciating torture! I applied a generous dose of the Phor-Pan gel, thought of getting up but fell asleep again. Unwonted, in the extreme for me!
The handwashing hanging up to dry was no longer hanging up! It had fallen into the water-filled bowl beneath! I cursed silently and got it rang put again, and re-hung. But I mustn’t kvetch. Not after the last two days worth of utter depressionalisationing, Whoopsidangleplops. Accifauxpas and failures, this is nothing! Humph! 
On to the balcony to take a shot through the glass, of the morning weather. 
Mary had bought herself a new three-wheeled trolley from Argos. She’d bought some clips that she can hang a brolly and so forth on. A good looking one, with a bag and wire carrier as well, it cost her £59. Big wheels, which looked nice and stable. She nattered while we were en route, and in town, we both went into the Poundland Store, for her to show me where the handy looking lever-hooks were to be got from. But they had not any in stock today. Mary insisted that I have two of her’s, she would not allow me to refuse. Bless her. I bought two bags of Sherbert Saucers. 
With an aching body and painful knees, I had an amble to Huntington Street, to call in the Aldi store. 
I got some Leicester grated cheese for the cheesy potatoes of Josie and me on Sunday, and a jar of beetroot and gherkins Which were so leathery and bland, even I considered returning them with a complaint. 
We had a moan and laugh as we walked through the link-passage. We tested the door opening on the exit door to the alfresco seating. 
Then started the meal. A cold imitation salad of sorts. Chicken thigh, sliced Worcester apple (Very tangy!), rice & corn pats, gherkins (the Tesco ones, that were horrible to the palate), cooked beetroot, and Milk Roll buttered tomato sarnies. A mini-bottle of orange juice added. 
The sky from the kitchen window looked almost ominous of a storm brewing. 
I carefully took the medications, and the summoning call to the Porcelain Throne arrived. And boy what a change in style this session turned out to be! It looked like chilli-con-carnie! The blood flowed, and medicationalising and cleaning took a while. As I dismounted the Throne, blood was trickling down from the PPs onto the thighs. Oh, dearie me! The damned Little Inchy, was also pouring blood! The fungal lesion had opened up again. First time for many a month. This meant more time lost, in having to treat it and stop the flow. Humph! 
Cleaned and medicated things, the pins were looking alright. They seemed a bit more colour in them, and they were skinnier in appearance, I think.
I got the post all done and sent off.
07:00hrs: I’ll be back later to update things, but when, I’m not sure. 
I took the black bags to the waste chute, then got in the elevator. It smelt of cigarette smoke, with a lingering aroma of stale ale. Hehe! Someone been on a night out? I’m not jealous, of course! 
I made my way through the new linking-passage into Winwood Court. The brand-new unused yet, door mechanism out to the benches, was still not working. 
As I passed the top of Winchester Street, I noticed the rusty white Mercedes van, that the garage man told Jenny, was owned by one of the Winwood Heights tenants, had responded to Jenny’s request, and was now parking on the opposite side of the road. So, now I do not have to walk on the roadway to get the three-wheeler through when going into Sherwood. Thank you, Jenny ♥ 
I struggled to get up the hill on Mapperley Rise. (A continuation of Winchester Street hill, the steepest part of it). 
I was ambling along, in a semi-contented, partly-absent-minded dream world, and I thought I heard the Little Johns dongs. This made me look at my bargain, charity shop bought for £2 wristwatch. (The one with the £10 trap and new £11 battery, Haha!) 
escapades, and his New Zealand, Australasian holiday and a lady responded. A line of cars was outside to pick many of the patients up, others went to the car park, one lady to her giant Mercedes. I wobbled off into town with my trustless three-wheeled Guide trolley. I had to smile!
Despite everything, I seemed to enjoy the session? Am I a Sadisism-Sufferer? Or, should that be a masochist?
I hobbled down Market Street, where this Nottinghamian Pavement Cyclist was merrily plodding up the hill, and in the Slab Square. 
the square on my way to the Poundland shop on Wheeler Gate. 
I was really in pain then, with the knees and feet. I took a picture of the Debenhams, that used to be Griffith & Spalding, because we are likely to see this closing soon, too! Reading of the troubles and decline of yet another big name store is so sad.
I bade Shirley a farewell with a smile, got out of the lift and into the flat. 
Took the medications, and got the meal prepared. I was too tired and worn out to make anything from scratch. So I got a large can of chilli-con-carni, added some brewed malt vinegar, and stirred it all the time almost, to stop it burning the new saucepan again this time. Tsk! 
01:20hrs: Awoken by I know not what, but I felt it must have been a noise of some kind. I had no alternative, but to escape the clutches of the Brother-in-Law Pete damaged while he was flat sitting, fitting new CCTC cameras, and searching for my valuables (He found and took them too!), £300, second-hand, near-dilapidated, gungy-beige recliner, and investigate the source of the noise. Back-Pain Betty was stiff, aching persistently and yet stinging at any touch? As soon as I moved my endomorphic, paunchy body, she started-off! The rear-bottom area was very sore and tender? Arthur Itis was in a bad mood, too! Not a good start to the day!
The call to the Porcelain Throne arrived, suddenly and urgently. Off to the wet room. The 
I went to investigate. And Glory be and hallelujah! The result sheet was on top of some empty jars on the radiator! 
I was somewhat rather pleased with myself, to the point of smugness. When I decided to use the scissors to cut open letter. Tim Price had suggested I keep the scissors in the knife block, cause I do keep losing them. Straight to the box, and got the cutters. 
A packet of cheese curls, two mini cakes, and a mug of tea seemed like a fair enough choice. So, that’s what I had. 
The got the ablutions were then tackled. I’m afraid with the fingers having a little sensation of touch or contact at the moment, meant I dropped more stuff than ever during this morning’s wash-shave & showering, and afterwards too! I think this list from memory is about right: Toothbrush x3, Toothpaste x1, Olive oil squirt bottle x1, Aftershave bottle x1, Flannel x2, Soap x2, Showerhead x1, Body spray x1, Sock-Glide x1, Socks x5 (using the gripper, or trying to), and, the Pro-Pain gel tube x2. During the Porcelain Throne session: The toilet roll x2, Toilet cleaner bottle and bleach bottle x1 each and the nasal Spray x2. Tsk! A record number, I reckon.
I walked along the front of the flats to the bus stop. Gawd, it was a cold wind, and without a hat on! Klutz! 
Had a drink of spring water, a wee-wee. Went on YouTube, and noticed the Tim Price owns property in Nottingham, in Goosegate! 
To remind me of my depression and frustration with life, even the sky looked gloomy! 
Rattily, I gave up after a short while. And got some fodder organised, just chips, the last of the bacon, and the last tomatoes, thrown on a plate, with the last few slices of Milk Roll bread and some beetroot, Josie’s donated to me lemon dessert, and some bacon flavoured Asda (Walmart) chips. As annoyed and angst as I was with things, I enjoyed this meal. A flavour rating of 9/10! 
Washed the pots, and retook another snap of the sky. It still looked threatening. 
03:15hrs. When the brain had gained some equilibrium and logicality, I realised I had been asleep for six, that’s Six Hours! The longest I can remember for years! My first thought was, well I must have needed it! But then I corrected myself – Naughty Inchcock! And simply appreciated getting it for whatever the reason. There you, I can be positive as well as negative, nervous and niggardly. Hehe! No signs of any nocturnal nibbling and the spring water bottle had not even been opened! This should tell me something, but the only message I got from the EQ, was ‘keep calm’ whatever will happen, will. You won’t like it!’ Fine that, even the EQ is toying with me now! 
I then stubbed the right foot’s toes against the doorstop… and felt hardly anything! In fact, the only bit of pain came from the ankle! I tested the finger-ends when I got in the kitchen, and they were in the same resistant to acknowledge any contact with anything substantial or hard. I was almost sure this was what the EQ was warning me of. It wasn’t as it happens, but more about that later. I knew that doing any artwork or typing was going to be a pain in the neck!
ollowing wee-wee lasted for that long, I got the crossword book in action. An ERLRWS (Extremely-Resistant-Long-Reluctant-Weak-Sprinkly) fashion. I’m not sure that much escaped, but what drops did, took an inordinately unreasonably long time. 
orting a big problem out. She was terrific about my rushing things along in our nattering session, bless her. 
Got the meal prepped. Not too bad an effort, considering the change of plans from excessively burnt cheesy potatoes, to chips. Hehe!